Stockholm
by Another Girl Grasping
Summary: AU. NonCon. Bellatrix/Hermione with a bit of SS/HG. Seious NonCon. Not for the faint of heart. How did Bella reduce Hermione to Stockholm?
1. Winning Mudblood

Winning Mudblood (Shaping Stockholm)

Disclaimer: I do not own these characters. I do not own the settings.

A/N: Not for the faint of heart! A few people commented wondering what circumstances could have led Hermione to her broken state in the sixth installment of 'Love in the Blackest of Places.' (Reading that chapter is a must) This challenge issued by GreyElla gave me the opportunity to explain. The challenge was to write a story during one of Voldemort's revels. It had to include Severus in some way. Props that were required include; a handful of black pearls, a peacock feather, a bathtub and Bella's wand.

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Voldemort smiled. Last night he bathed in Potter's blood and relished his victory all night long with many partners. To be finally rid if the boy was no anticlimactic feat; years of planning came to fruition in one fell swoop. His army was larger and more cruel than his opposition. The Order never had a chance... and it felt good. It felt so good having the boy's blood on his hands.

He discovered that Potter was accidently his final hocrux a little late in the game, but he figured it out. He couldn't kill the boy with magic, his wand wouldn't kill a part of his soul. It explained everything. So he took the boy's life with his hands. Watched as green eyes went dead, desperate to the very last moment.

He presently looked around the room at his followers and his prisoners. There were dozens of young women with their arms chained above them. Most had given up fighting, wrists chafed and bloodied from the pull and struggle, yet there was one who continued. The mudblood Granger. Tears fell from her eyes as blood painted her arms, but she wouldn't stop.

His most trusted and loyal follower played games with the mudblood. Everytime Bella neared the girl, screams intensified. Bella was having a nice time, he could tell. She deserved it too, after spending 14 years in Azkaban for him. Bella was his black panther; smaller than some of his other followers but infinetly more vicious, never one to be trifled with. She enjoyed stalking her prey as much as she enjoyed devouring. He knew she had marked the girl already and now she would want to claim what was hers.

Voldemort considered for a few moments. The girl was indeed a lovely find. Her body and her screams were delectable. She would make an excellent gift. Severus had asked for the girl already. Severus was one of his favoured Death Eaters, but he was a double agent. Voldemort's arrogance did not blind him to the fact that Severus would have made out either way the war went. Would he torture the mudblood, as was fitting? Or was he hoping to attain her in order to show her mercy? These doubts sealed Granger's fate and she became the entertainment of the evening.

Bella was nearing the girl again, he could tell by the shrill quality of the last few screams. "Bella! Come here." He commanded. With blinding speed Bella stood proud and drunk with amusement before him. "Severus, you as well." He called across the room. Severus looked up, stood and sauntered his way over, bowing deeply when he reached his master. Bella stared at Severus with undisguised contempt. She didn't like the greasy man, she had her reasons, but that was what it boiled down to. She found him irritating, self-serving and frankly he was a prick.

He spent fourteen years in cushy Hogwarts dealing with bratty little students while she spent every day of those fourteen years honorably serving her Lord and wondering how long she had before a dementor came and sucked her soul out of her arse! It was ridiculous that the Dark Lord gave Severus the same recognition he gave her. Not that she would ever venture to suggest such a thing to her master. Questioning her lord would be unwise, to say the least.

"Bella. Severus." Duty-bound heads bowed gratefully as their puppet master's strings pulled. "You've both been of great service to me over the years and I am feeling generous tonight." Bella's eyes lit up. Severus' face remained a unperturbed mask. "Severus, I want to give you the mudblood Granger. Bella, I also want to give her to you... So I've decided that you two will have to try and earn her in the old fashioned way."

Black daggars stared at Severus. Voldemort chuckled lightly in amusement at Bella's distaste for the man. The man in question bowed once more, signaling that he would like to speak. Voldemort nodded his approval.

"I appreciate the honor given... to allow me the opportunity to claim the mudblood, my Lord. Thank you..." Implied objection floated down slowly to the dark lord's feet.

"Continue Severus." Voldemort demanded, patience wearing gauze thin.

"With respect, My Lord, I did not have intentions of sullying my body with the mudblood. I intended to enslave her for other... Less traditional purposes." Bella smirked, the greasy git was making it easy for her. Voldemort spent a few moments in thought before reaching his conclusion.

"You may use the wench for any purpose you choose if you win her, but tonight you will make your attempt in the old way. Both of you. Severus will go first." Thin lips curled in devious amusement. Severus didn't want the mudblood on his body, had the nerve to say so and therefore he would go first, forced to sit and watch Bella with the whore's filth drying on his skin. Bella looked ready to scream at this revelation. She didn't desire the remnants of Severus on her mudblood when she took her.

Bella bowed to show her loyalty and obedience, requesting the right to speak. Voldenort sighed, his most loyal were being rather picky and annoying tonight. "What is it Bella?"

"Is My Lord in objection to the use of... Items? Conjuring?" Bella bowed lower. Intruiged Voldemort smiled.

"You may be as creative as you like." He replied. Bella gushed her thanks and moved back to her seat, throwing her competitior a fiery stare. Severus Snape had to do this, had to make the girl scream, but he had no desire to do so. She was the only one of the three who deserved better than to be cast aside due to her blood. She was the brightest witch of her age. The only way to protect her, to continue teaching her and eventually free her was to defile her. He needed to win her.

He approached the young woman. Deep brown eyes widened with savage will to live. Chaffed wrists and blood along her arms. He would never get the chance to heal her unless her first hurt her. "Are you a virgin, mudblood?" Voice feigned boredom, while mind prayed the answer was no. She just stared at him. She wouldn't make it easy on herself and perhaps that wasn't such a bad thing. The more she chose to struggle and look forced the better he would appear. Her stubborn nature might just save her.

The wand rose, chackles disappeared, the girl fell. She landed on her feet, to the astonishment of all those watching. Even Severus was shocked and he was the one who trained her in combat. She hadn't eaten in days and she should, by all means, have been weak. Hermione stood there, knees slightly bent from the impact of landing, doing what most could not. Hermione sucessfully seperated her bodily needs from her mind, rising above pain, hunger and exhaustion.

"Traitor!" She screeched at Snape. Oh the girl had no idea. Traitor was correct and he was in the company of those he considered enemy, she was not among them.

"Idiot girl. You will learn your place." He advanced upon her. The back of his hand split open her lip. "I half expected it to run brown." He drawled, the remark was met by much laughter. He worked to keep his hands from shaking as he grabbed Hermione by the hair. He shoved her roughly to the floor. With a flick of her wand he removed her clothing and bound her hands and legs with shackles to the floor. He opened his robes and positioned himself between her legs. Up close he saw the fatigue in her eyes. He saw the trust there. She was putting on one hell of a show, knowing that she needed to appear brutalized to save herself. She would never cease to amaze him.

"My Lord, I serve you always!" He shouted. Voldemort nodded his agreement. Hermione screamed as he intruded into her body. He could not be gentle for her. As he probed in further he realised he was met with no resistance. He silently thanked Merlin he was not her first. She cerainly made it sound like he was though. She laid it on thick, fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she screamed and sobbed and struggled.

It seemed to go on for hours. He watched as his best student took on a dead and defeated look. Severus hoped Voldemort had seen whatever he hoped to see. He made a small cut on his palm and pulled out of her, immediately stroking himself to completion, smearing the blood across his sex to make it appear she'd been a virgin. He switched hands and quickly smeared blood on her thighs, then came dramatically on her chest. He stood, closing his robes and turned to bow for Voldemort.

The entire room was hushed, not a whisper. Finally it was Voldemort who spoke. "Well done Severus. Bella, you may take her at will." Bella stood haughtily.

"Not very imaginitive Severus!" She sneered at him as they passed one another. "Now watch how you really torture someone instead of letting your cock do all the work!" She screeched.

Severus merely laughed. If he let her embarrass him he would lose. "Spoken like a person who hasn't got one to speak of." He taunted. The crowd was comprised mostly of men and he got their support, their hoots of laughter. Bella scowled and walked toward Hermione.

Chains disappeared at once. She looked up and down Hermione's body. "Disgusting." She muttered and with a brandish of her wand a hot tub appeared. The water bubbled but no steam rose from it. She dumped Hermione unceremoniously into cruelly cold water that licked at her skin. So cold it burned. Bella washed her quickly and roughly. She pulled her back out by the hair and left her dripping for the room to see. Another wave of her wand and the tub was gone. "Episkey." Hermione felt her chaffed wrists heal and knew what the witch was doing.

Voldemort smiled at his panther. "An imaculate canvas upon witch you shall carve?" He inquired. Bella's eyes shone.

"Not quite immaculate My Lord, the blood runs foul. But I'm going to play with the pretty skin." Hermione nearly shivered at this answer. She stood in the cold air, her skin goose flesh, but refused to shiver. She stood as proudly as one can when in such a vulnerable state. She knew she couldn't let Bella break her. Unlike Severus, the dark woman would be trying.

She stalked around the girl, drinking in the sight of her cornered prey. She contemplated for a few minutes. Finally with a few flourishes of her wand a table appeared, on it sat a few objects, none of them appeared threatening, but Hermione knew better than to assume. The maniac witch would find a way to cause pain.

Black skirts billowed toward the table. Bella looked over the items and chose. She held up a strand of six black pearls that gradually increased in size. The first was about the size of a dime, the last was as big as a quarter. Bella brought the pearls over to Hermione and pressed them to the younger woman's lips. "Open now." She demanded.

"Fuck you." Hermione spit. Bella laughed. She looked about the room, cackling and turned suddenly turned, slapping the girl across the face with a resounding crack. Hermione stared defiantly at the woman and turned to the right, spitting blood on the floor.

"Oh Muddy, you're only making this worse. You'll want these to be wet, I can promise you that. I'm not going to give you another chance." Bella whispered into Hermione's ear. Brown eyes widened. "Open." She demanded for the room to hear. Hermione stared death at the dark witch and reluctantly parted her full lips. Bella immediately began feeding the pearls into Hermione's mouth. She pushed them in too far, causing Hermione to gag and laughed. She fucked the young witch's mouth with the pearls for a bit and the room's attention was earned. Finally she pulled them out and shoved Hermione to her knees, then forced her down onto her hands.

Hermione tried to get back up, struggled against the woman, but to no avail. She was bound as soon as she was down. Bella gave no warning before pressing the first pearl into her virgin ass. Hermione was accostomed to pain. She'd suffered her fair share. The burning of the intrusion was not bad for her. The problem was the humiliation. Another pearl forced into her, more burning pain.

She tried to focus on loosening her muscle. Bella smirk as she shoved in the third pearl. "Get used to this muddy, you'll learn to love it one day!" Bella teased, hoping to get a rise out of Severus. It was a well played moved, Voldemort appreciated the arrogance of Bella assuming she would win. by the time the fourth pearl made its rough entrance Hermione's eyes were filled with silent tears. On the fifth she actually cried out, unable to hold it in anymore. The intrusion was so painful, so calculated and simple and cruel. Finally the sixth and largest was pressing against her barrier. Bella teased her for a moment before pressing her palm to the pearl, hard. Hermione's body burned and then she was so grateful to have all of them in, that there were no more, an involuntary sob wracked through her form.

Hermione focused on her breathing, trying to keep calm. She didn't know how to get throuh this. Bella smiled down at the girl cruelly and pressed the tip of her wand to Hermione's clit. Severus may have raped her, but what she was going to do was much worse. If he took her virginity, she would be the first to bring the girl to orgasm. It would be terrible and memorable and her master would appreciate the mental brutality over the sheer physicality of her predecessor.

Hermione was having trouble thinking. Between the pearls lodged inside her and the wand toying with her clit coherence was elusive. She felt her hips pressing backward of their own accord. Bella smirked and pulled the largest pearl out. Hermione moaned loudly. Voldemort watched the mudblood squirm and found he was stirred by the sight.

Bellatrix pulled the next two out, now furiously rubbing at Hermione's clit. Terrible cries of reluctant pleasure had almost everyone in the room shifting in their seats. Hermione came and came hard as Bella pulled the final pearl from her body. While keeping up the pressure on Hermione's clit she grabbed a long peacock feather from the table and began to mark Hermione once more, carving the word Mudblood down her spine. Hermione screamed and screamed... and came again with the relentless ministrations on her sex.

When Bella finally let up Hermione was broken and defeated. Voldemort smiled down at his black panther. He was entertained and she had won. Severus stared down his nose at Hermione with distaste, though if anyone were looking closely they would see the horror in his eyes. He failed to save her.

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	2. A Chink in the Armour

_Stockholm_

Chapter Two: A Chink in the Armour

A/N:Trying to update all of these stories before next week when classes start. Doing my best. Enjoy

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She's so perfectly filthy. So exquisitely tainted. So bittersweet and all mine. Her tears are hot and salt-water-taffy-sweet. She is so beautiful its hideous. She is so resilient and its so pretty, makes me want to strangle the life out of her. Her eyes are chocolate coins. Her hair, candy floss. If I have too much of her it will ruin my appetite and still, I'd want more.

I put her in her cell. She's still so vibrant and full, I yearn to see her ribs, to count them, to ruin her. She crawls over to a corner. "Oh, my sweet muddy girl, where do you have to back up to now? Tsk tsk." Her eyes widen, impossibly large. It's just about all I can take. I cross to her in a few long strides, blocking the light from the hall, bathing her in darkness.

My fingers caress her silken locks, curl them around my hand and pull her to her feet. She cries out. Sweet, sweet sounds. Oh I need a taste, to possess, to control. "We're going to have such good fun, you and I." She doesn't look excited to have fun with me. No, she looks decidedly ill at the prospect. Good. I lean in and capture those lips. Those perfect, pink, pouting lips with my own.

Small hands beat against my chest. I grab her wrists and pin them above her, never breaking the kiss. Her struggle is delicious. Eventually her physical instincts kick in and she begins to respond to the kiss in spite of herself. She kisses well, not as innocent as she seems. Suddenly the thought angers me and I bite on her pouty lower lip, bringing it to blood. "Mmm, my muddy one. You taste of dirt." I whisper into her ear, rolling the soft lobe between my teeth. She shudders and moans, looking horrified with herself for doing so.

"Please, no more." She begs in earnest.

"No more?" I ask, sliding one nail down her neck. "Oh, but muddy mine, we've so much to learn about one another!" I let the nail linger over her pulse point. I'm tempted to dig into her there, watch the blood spill from her artery, but I refrain. My nail makes its way over her clavicle and down to one of her perfect nipples. Her intake of breath, sharp as the fingernail accosting her, pleases me. My eyes travel the same path, led by nail.

The sound of air being disturbed reaches my ears. I look up in time to see her open hand flying toward me. She doesn't just slap me, she slaps through me. Her arm comes full circle as my face snaps to the left. I feel blood at my lip, its split from the impact. "Would you look at that! It spills red. I expected blue from someone as refined in parentage as you!" She's got me smiling full on now. I taste the metallic tang of my own blood.

"Oh, muddy we are going to get along just fine." I tell her and shove my bloodied lip against hers. She runs her tongue over my lips, tasting me. I may have created a thirsty monster. Her body is an interesting mixture of hard and soft, all muscles and womanly curves. My mudblood, all of these curves are mine. I run my hands down her body, following the natural path from shoulders to waist to hips.

Our lips part and she turns to the side to spit. No that won't do. The vice grip of my hand crushes her cheeks and I could break her cheekbones now if I wanted to. "That blood is pure, swallow." I command. Distaste makes its home in her eyes and I feel her throat work.

I cackle as she capitulates. Releasing her face, I move lower to ravage her throat. She moans. Her hands work their way into my hair and she pulls. I groan into her skin and sink my teeth in. "Oh, muddy, I love how you cry out for me." She growls with frustration. Her mind hates that her body loves this. This base betrayal, this internal civil war that she is losing.

I sink to my knees and taste her. Her hips jerk so hard I nearly bite through my own lip. I look up to see that she did it on purpose, mirth in her eyes. She's drawn my blood twice thus far. I pull the dagger from my skirts and slice neatly at her inner thigh. Oh the cries, the pain. Like a wounded animal, she howls. I let the blood pool onto my fingers and slide them right into her.

She pushes against the wall unexpectedly, sending me tumbling onto my back. She lands on top of me, my fingers inside her and her clit just above my mouth. I laugh and fuck her as she rides me. Her core presses down on my face, obscuring my intake of oxygen. She thinks she can snuff me out with her sex. She isn't wrong, and the idea thrills me.

I lick and fuck her like no tomorrow will come, because it might not. Who fears death anyway? I won't be worse off, but she will. Fenrir will await her, a fate worse than death and even me. She is close now, I'm close to passing out. I slap her ass, hard, with my free hand. She cries out and I do it again. Her head falls back and her eyes roll to the back of her head. Exquisite. As she comes I throw her off of me, gulping air like water. She lands on her side, the stones are not soft, I'm certain the impact was painful.

"That was a very naughty trick muddy. Very naughty indeed." On hands and knees I crawl toward her. My dagger in hand. My lungs burn, but it feels perversely good. I cut her. I cut her again ,and again, none too deep to cause any real damage. She is a new toy... no sense ruining her... yet.

Her cries caress my ears gently. So perfect. I spread the blood across her thighs, across her stomach. She is mine. I'm bathing her in her own filth. Her eyes meet mine.

"Kill me." She deadpans. I laugh at her, kneading her breasts.

"No, my sweet muddy one. That would be far too fast and kind for you." She groans. I grab her hand and pull her atop me, letting her blood slick between our bodies. "Fuck me muddy." I demand. Her eyes knit in confusion. I grab her hand and place it at my sex.

"I don't know what to do." She says. I reach down and take two of her fingers, sliding them into me slowly.

"Just in and out muddy. Just in and out." She hesitates. I slap her across her face, hard. My hand burns with the impact. She cries out in pain. "Stop fucking thinking, mudblood! That's not what your pretty little head is for anymore!" Her eyes widen as I push her head down. "Lick me and fuck me with your fingers. Do it right or you'll be punished." I slip into her mind. It's panic filled. I can smell the fear coming off her in waves.

I jerk my hips slightly, making her move her hand. She adopts the movements and her tongue gently slides between my folds. I slip into her mind. She is both relieved that she can do this, disgusted that she is doing this and confused about enjoying my taste. Mmm. Corruption suits her. She will break and I will own her on more than simply bond. All of her will belong to me. I want to ruin everything innocent in her.

Her uncertainty doesn't stop her from bringing me pleasure. Her tentative movements are oddly satisfying. "Mmm mudblood, you feel lovely." I could swear I feel her hips rolling between my knees, pressing herself desperately into anything. My head falls back in a laugh that quickly turns into a moan. I bend my leg at the knee and slide it between her thighs. Her slick folds slide up and down the front of my calf. Her own moan reverberates into my clit and the world ends. Lights dance before my eyes and my body tenses, an archer's bow.

She continues to grind herself against my calf. I pull my leg from her and she whimpers. "We really will get along if you're going to be such a little wanton whore, mudblood." I torment her.

"Fuck you." Her voice is breathy defiance.

"Yes, you did. Quite well for someone who doesn't know how." I reply. Her eyes narrow and she sneers at me. Oh my new toy is a cute little thing. I kiss her once more. She fights me. I love that she fights me. I rake my hands through her curls, pulling her head back by handfuls of her hair, exposing her throat. I can see her pulse beating like a caged animal against supple flesh. I set my lips to that spot and ravage it. It happens slowly, her hands slide up my arms and to my throat, she presses in on the sides of my neck. I bite her and she squeezes harder, trying to kill me again.

I look up and meet determined eyes. In one swift movement I slide my arms between hers and push outward. Her grip slips more easily than she imagined it would. She growls in frustration. The back of my hand meets her face. "You keep trying to kill me I'm going to keep you alive longer." I threaten.

"You like it." She says, surprised. I flash her my most charming smile and grip her in my arms, turning her around to hands and knees.

"Oh!" She exclaims. She moans in spite of herself when I slide my fingers up her slit. I tease her this way for a while, slipping just the tip of my finger between her folds to press at her clit, then withdrawing. I slide my finger lower and play at her entrance.

"Tell me that you want this mudblood." I demand. She doesn't speak. I slap the soft skin of her thighs, leaving hand prints and eliciting cries of pain. "Just say it muddy, I can already see how wet you are. I can already feel your heat." My voice is husky with the lust she brings to my surface. I rise and brush her curls from her neck, sinking my teeth into my delicious pet's shoulder.

"Gods! I want this!" She finally responds, her hips pressing backward into me. I reach again for my dagger. I slide the flat of it down the length of her spine. She shudders. So lovely. I make another set of delicate cuts across her back. I run wicked edge over hips and shoulders. Nothing too hard for now, she cries softly already. I finally slide two fingers smoothly into her.

Spine arches so far I fear she will break. But it holds. She grunts with each thrust, pain and pleasure evident as my knees scrape on the stone floor. She doesn't take long to convulse and clamp on my fingers. "Be good for me muddy. Be good for me and this will work out nicely." I tell her, wiping my fingers off on her skin.

"Why do you want this to work out nicely at all? I thought you hated me?" She's asks, almost delicately.

"You can't help but question everything, can you?" Annoyance and amusment shape my words.

"No, I just can't." She replies. I sit down cross-legged before her.

"Fourteen years in Azkaban... Well its a cold, cold place. Purebloods, we're cold people. I think I'm just looking for a bit of warmth." I explain. Her eyes widen, head cocked to the side. "You, you'll have to be cold for a while before you earn my warmth, girl." I stand and walk to the door, leaving her to try and piece together something to wear. I pause at the door.

"If I even have any to give." The door closes.

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	3. Doing what's right

Stockholm

Chapter 3: Doing what's right.

A/N: The final piece to this rather painful piece. NonCon, mind games, BDSM themes, smut and character death. Not your thing? Have a great day!

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"Harder!" I demand, because now it's like I can't breathe without it. Now it's like my heart can't beat even one more time unless it's to your rhythm. You smirk devilishly, stilling your fingers. I curse at you, scream at you and finally when I begin to cry at being deprived you relent. You pound into me. You own my sex over and over, putting yourself deeper into that place.

And now I moan, now I am whole again. There is nothing in my world but this. My life stands still for ephemeral eternities between your visits to my cell and time begins again when your form throws shadows over my body.

I wait for you and wait for you and finally you come to me. Your fingers are brutal and unforgiving. I can feel your bitten nails scratching me up inside and it only serves to make me feel good. You pump into me, I love the feel when you slip in past the knuckle, when you touch me deep. You hit the spot that makes my legs shake until it hurts so bad, that it feels so good and I can't remember just which way is up and am I on my back or on my knees?

You feel me getting close and you change tactics, curling your digits. You deny me the finish and I know it's on purpose. You know that I know. It makes you laugh in that way you have of taking pleasure in the misery you cause. This is the way you like me, eyes glazed over, lips pulled back over my teeth in an animalistic grimace of pleasure. This is what you reduce me to. What you want me to be and I am, I am for you. All for you.

You let my fingers slide between your folds. You let me play you while you fuck the sense out of me. My hand does what needs to be done without needing direction from me. My head swims as I feel your tongue press at my lips, I open for you. I always open for you. Your feed your tongue into my mouth and I graciously accept it. I would thank you if I could speak. I starve without this. I die without you.

It is only when you are close, your wetness already slipping down to my wrist, that you press your thumb to my clit and my world turns to black. As Black as your maiden name, as your hair and eyes, your soul. I swim in your sea of darkness and open my mouth, letting you fill my lungs, wanting to drown in you.

It is now, as we both reach completion, that I pull the dagger from the waist of your skirts. I know you slipped it back in there after you wrote love on me today. Your eyes widen as your walls clench my hand and I drive it into your back, twisting, because you have to die.

"I love you." I tell you and I'm not lying. I love you more than anyone, but what I love is not the most important thing and the world needs to be rid of you. I make the biggest sacrifice, cutting into my own heart. The life leaves your eyes and fills into mine. I am my own again. I am Hermione.

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Fin.


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